


Neruda

by tiamatv



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst and Feels, Canon Compliant, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, M/M, Possibly Unrequited Love, Season/Series 12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:06:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 778
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27693179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiamatv/pseuds/tiamatv
Summary: Castiel has never tried to put how he feels for Dean into words. There was never need—and then there was never time—and then there was never opportunity.And then, as he grew to understand Dean a little better, there was understanding.
Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 62





	Neruda

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Profound Bond 30-minute storytime challenge on 11/18 that I forgot to post - prompt is at the end!
> 
> (I'm sorry: this is an angsty one.)

Castiel has never tried to put how he feels for Dean into words. He’s not… good with them, anyway, the way some of his brethren are. It doesn’t matter the language, he has never been eloquent. There was never need—and then there was never time—and then there was never opportunity.

And then, as he grew to understand Dean a little better, there was understanding: his words would not be something that Dean would want to hear.

So he watches Dean’s joys and shares in his sorrows—as much as an angel who has lost his Heaven can, Cas supposes. Sometimes Dean’s pains are so petty, and sometimes they’re so enormous that Castiel thinks he’s never seen their like in an eon. But perhaps it’s simply that, at one point, he didn’t care to see how humans felt, because he had no understanding of emotion. He loved his father, he cared about his brothers and sisters, but it was… sterile.

Love is wonderful. It’s awful. It’s one word and beyond words. He still doesn’t know how humans survive without the insulation of angelic grace, because even with the wrap of celestial glory keeping Castiel from shattering, the depth of the things that Castiel has done for Dean Winchester have rendered him foolish.

He does not want to be called ‘brother,’ but he knows what Dean means by it when he says it—glancing sideways at him in the Impala’s front seat, eyes hazel in the rearview mirror. Dean’s relationship with his brother, after all, is the cornerstone of Dean’s life. That love might not be what he wants, but Castiel is… honored, for what it’s worth.

(Honor is a cold comfort. He understands this all the better, now. But he will take what he can get. And Dean is right about one thing: Castiel is always there for them, _will_ always be there for them, for as long as he has the spark of life in his long existence. He can’t do otherwise and still remain true to himself.)

But standing in this graveyard, watching Sam touch the headstone of a woman long gone to what Castiel hopes is a quiet heaven populated by playful children and a loving husband, he is willing to throw away that spark. Dean’s chest is warm against his as they embrace; his cheek against Castiel’s temple rasps, just faintly, so sensory that it vibrates through Castiel’s core. The Enochian-streaked blade of Dean’s scapula moves under his hand. Castiel put those marks there, long ago.

“I could go with you,” he says, tilting his chin up to looking into Dean’s eyes.

What he means is, _let me go with you. Don’t force me to exist without you._

Dean stares back at him, and there’s an awareness there that Dean does not often allow himself to have. Dean is most honest when he is facing death and demise, Castiel has learned, but this is the slowest approach to it that he has had in Castiel’s knowing. His tongue moves in a soft, pink touch against his lower lip.

Castiel thinks—he could say the words now. Here, in front of their family, their friends. He should, because there will be no chance to say them again. He is an angel without a Heaven, and once Heaven has Dean, he won’t be Castiel’s any longer.

For a moment, he imagines it: imagines Dean’s eyes widening, because despite everything, he will be surprised. Maybe then, he will understand why Castiel is asking to walk with him to what they are both aware would be a very certain death. The Darkness will not be kind to a small seraph that defies her. Castiel’s face is familiar to her already. It will be painful, no doubt, the way she has pulled the light from so many of his brethren already.

But if he can walk side-by-side with Dean Winchester for even a moment longer, that is a moment that Castiel will treasure.

Dean shakes his head. It feels like a rejection. “No, no, no. No, I got to do this alone.” He doesn’t touch Castiel, but his voice is low and rough—a secret, even if everyone else is listening. “Listen, if—when—when this works… Sam, he’s gonna be a mess. So look out for him, okay?”

Oh.

Sam.

Sam is Dean’s constant. His touchstone. If Dean is nothing else, he is Sam’s big brother, and he will protect him even when he can’t, anymore.

Castiel doesn’t look away from Dean’s eyes when he says, “Of course.”

And if that is the only language with which Castiel can communicate his love, then so be it.

~fin~

**Author's Note:**

> "I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where. I love you simply, without problems or pride: I love you in this way because I do not know any other way of loving but this, in which there is no I or you, so intimate that your hand upon my chest is my hand, so intimate that when I fall asleep your eyes close." -Pablo Neruda
> 
> I hope you are all taking care of your hearts after the finale, friends. My muse hasn't recovered yet, but here's hoping it will, soon.
> 
> This prompt, like much of the goodness in my life these days, comes from the [Profound Bond Discord Server](https://discord.gg/profoundbond). If you are over 18 and a like-minded lover of Destiel, please come join us!


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